I Look On You With Love
by pressontoknow
Summary: Winnie Scarlatti hated bomb calls. She knew it was selfish, but every other call was miniscule in comparison to having her husband be so close to harm's way. She ran her hands over her belly. "Easy there, sweetheart," she whispered. "Daddy's always careful."
1. Chapter 1

**Don't own the characters, but they are precious!**

The hot call had come in three hours ago at 10 AM, a bomb threat from a man who said that if he wasn't given $2 million by 2 PM, he'd blow up two government buildings. Team One was sent out in all their sirens and Kevlar and weapons. Though they did their best in their negotiations, the first bomb was blown at a school district building, killing three civilians and injuring many others. The bomb had been detonated by the man who had built it, David Maccabee, and it was only seconds before he was shot that he revealed that the second bomb was remotely timed for one hour. He flipped the switch just as he was taken down by Sam. They had one hour to find the building, find the bomb, and disarm it.

Winnie Scarlatti hated bomb calls. She knew it was selfish, but every other call was miniscule in comparison to having her husband be so close to harm's way. When the call had come in that morning she'd been tempted to ask Donna of Team Two to take it, though they'd just been relieved from duty and it was a completely ridiculous idea. She just didn't want to see Spike get hurt.

She winced as a foot poked into her ribs. At thirty-seven weeks, this was her last day on the job before she quit to start getting ready for the baby. She'd had a couple signs of early labor and her doctor had told her it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Easy there, sweetheart," she whispered to the little boy as she ran a hand over her belly. "Daddy's always careful."

She'd had to put her headset on mute for a moment so she could talk herself down from crying. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, hormones had set in hard and strong. She cried when someone died, she cried when someone was injured, she cried when any member of the team was in danger. She'd been a wreck for the past eight months, though lately she'd been finding some techniques to pull herself together. She'd learned that, whatever she did, she couldn't think about Spike. She was sure to be a mess if she did—the thought of anyone in danger put in mind the idea of him being in danger, and that just set her right off. No.

She thought of math problems when she was about to cry. Algebra, calculus, statistics, whatever. She was good with numbers, always had been, and the logic put her at peace. Spike was a genius at everything, and the only thing related to smarts that she felt she came even close to matching him at was math. Even then they were pretty even. But math calmed her.

She was almost done with mentally calculating what exactly 23 to the tenth power was when she heard Greg talking to her over the headset. She let out a frustrated huff as the numbers went out the window of her pregnant brain.

"Winnie, we need the floor plans for the Kennedy building," he ordered, speaking of the government building that doubled as a library and the offices for one of the largest law companies in the state.

"Sure thing, Boss," she said shortly, fighting to keep her voice calm and polite. Her answer still had a sting to it.

She heard Greg chuckle and realized he must have forgotten to mute his headset. "She sounds a little angry."

"You must have messed up her problem," Spike, who was riding along with Greg, answered.

"Her problem?"

Winnie could hear the affectionate grin in her husband's voice, and she just had to smile in return. "She does math problems to calm her down. She's stressed out about it being a bomb call. Worried about me."

"Math problems," Greg repeated, laughing to himself. Winnie smiled at the kindness in his voice.

"Floor plans are on their way, Boss," she said.

Winnie sat back in her chair and took a long drink of water, taking advantage of the little wave of calm that could be had while the team was driving. She stood up a stretched, trying to walk out the kinks in her back by taking in a couple rounds about the office. She smiled wryly to herself as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window.

One of the first things Spike had said when they found out she was pregnant was that he couldn't wait to see her waddle. He wanted to see her swelling up—not just her belly, but all those other lovely symptoms that pregnant women are afflicted with. He wanted to help her paint her toenails and shave her legs when she got too big, and he even—she declared this proof of his undying love—wanted to come with her to look for all those huge pregnancy clothes she'd have to get to supplement her wardrobe. He'd chuckled at her response to this before wrapping his arms around her and reminding her that there would be more to follow this one, wouldn't there, and they both needed to decide on the clothes she'd been wearing so often.

But he loved seeing her waddle. Around the house, at work, through the store. He'd died laughing when Leah started a waddle jar at work, loudly declaring that anyone who saw Winnie started to sway from side to side on her strolls about the workplace had to put a dollar in the jar to help support the fund for the baby's future college endeavors.

Spike would sneak up behind his wife just to spot the famous walk. She'd turn around and grin at him as he exclaimed, "Ha! You're waddling!" Then he'd sweep her in his arms, give her a huge kiss, and tell their baby boy about all the things he was looking forward to doing with him.

Winnie grimaced as she felt the familiar burning in her chest. She would not miss the heartburn. Nor would she miss the backache, the intrusive doctor's visits, Spike's _ever constant watch_ to make sure she ate healthy. It was not uncommon for her to ask Leah to bring her something, _anything_, with sugar and chocolate and sprinkles. She'd feel bad about it later and confess to Spike, but he'd just laugh and take that as another reason to kiss her.

She wouldn't miss the people who somehow felt they had a right to give their advice on her pregnancy, her labor, how she raised the baby. Winnie and Spike liked to shop for groceries after work sometimes, and she couldn't count the number of times a kindly old couple had stopped them and inquired after the baby before Winnie was pulled off to the side to hear about all the horrors and pains of giving birth, while Spike was made to listen to the husband give his account of how helpless you feel, how totally and completely incapable, as you watch your wife go through this incredibly difficult task, and you can do absolutely nothing. The couple would say their kind goodbyes, wish them the best, and leave the young couple to stare at each other with horrorstruck eyes before bursting out laughing and reminding each other that it'd be okay, and they'd get through it together. They always did.

Winnie was distracted from her reverie as she heard Spike humming over the headset. She knew he'd left it open on purpose; he wanted her to hear the old Italian lullaby, taught to him by his ma, that he sang to their baby every night before bed.

She smiled and rubbed her belly as she hummed along. _Piccolo baby, sicuro e caldo, sai quanto ti amiamo._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Okay so for some reason I completely forgot that Greg retired after 5x13. Anyway, I want to keep him in here because I really like his relationship with Spike, as well as his compassion and kindness with the team. I think he'll be really supportive of Spike and Winnie's baby. So, yeah, Greg's staying on the team.**

**Thanks you all for your reviews-they've been lovely! I'm not sure how far this story's going to go, haven't planned that far ahead. We'll see where it goes, though! :)**

**Down own the characters. Hope you enjoy this chapter. It's just a bit of back story on Spike and Winnie's relationship. I really enjoyed writing it-next chapter will probably pick back up on the bomb threat, but not sure yet.**

**Someone want to let me know what AU stands for? I've been bumping around this site for a few months now, but I'm not really familiar with the lingo yet.**

**Chapter 2**

Spike kept humming even after he muted his headset again. He took the time in the car to go over his skill sets, review his knowledge, pick his brain. Basically it all boiled down to avoid triggers, find the detonator, disarm the bomb.

Avoid IEDs.

Spike sighed as he thought again of Lew's death. He was reminded of that day every single time there was a bomb threat. Sometimes at night he'd have dreams of more team members dying—Boss, Ed, Sam. He couldn't wake up on his own from those, and Winnie would shake him gently and then let him hold her close as he described the nightmare.

He never let anyone except himself near the potential bombs these days.

What would Lew think about him and Winnie having a baby? Well, scratch that—what would Lew think about him and Winnie? He and Lew had discussed just about every woman in the precinct _except_ Winnie in the time they'd been friends, except for this one night.

_ They'd gone out after work, hung out at the Goose for awhile before heading home. They'd both agreed to only have one beer so they were both alright to drive; Lew took the wheel this time._

_ Spike happened to see a woman with curly hair boarding a bus when they were driving past the station. "Hey, is that Winnie?"_

_ Lew glanced over and nodded. "Yeah, she stays late sometimes to use the staff computers. She's taking a couple online classes, and she doesn't have a computer at home."_

_ Spike grimaced. Winnie had been at her desk before he'd even arrived that morning at 5 AM. It was now about 9. She must have been exhausted, working for sixteen hours straight, and it was only the second day in their workweek. "What classes is she taking?"_

_ "She's finishing up her master's. After two years her contract runs out, and she has a better chance of getting to stay on if she's got a good degree."_

_ "How many classes is she taking? She works way more than a full workweek, just like us."_

_ Lew shrugged as he turned down the road toward Spike's house. "She's taking three this semester." He chuckled and shook his head. "She is _great_ at math, man. Like, really great—might even pass you up."_

_ Spike laughed. "Not possible, bud."_

After that he'd send her random texts with the hardest math problems he could think of. She always got them right. He used math as an excuse for their first date. They got dinner while he helped walk her through some homework she was having trouble with. Sure, the homework never got done, but that was the night he told Winnie how he felt about her. Best thing he'd ever done.

Greg couldn't help but grin to himself as Spike continued humming that tune. He'd been humming that nonstop ever since they'd found out Winnie was pregnant. He even sang it in Italian sometimes when he was running. It was no wonder his running time per mile was increasing; the song wasn't exactly invigorating.

Had it already been three years since Spike had brought him into the conference room to "talk"?

_They'd just finished with their debriefing following a successful call, and Sam and Jules were at Winnie's desk telling her and Leah where they were planning on going to dinner. Greg smiled as he watched the four of them interact. Winnie hadn't always been so close to the team—for a long time she'd just kept to herself and her classes—but now she was really opening up and starting to form relationships with all of them._

_ "Boss!"_

_ Greg glanced over to see Spike jogging out of the locker room towards him. "Hey, Spike, what is it?"_

_ The younger man came to stand in front of him and seemed at a loss for words. Greg didn't press him._

_ Finally, "Can I talk to you…about something? Maybe in the debrief room?"_

_ Greg raised his eyebrows. "Sure, bud, let's go."_

_ Within minutes they were seated at the table. There was a long period of silence and Greg could see Spike was trying to find the words to say whatever it what that needed to be brought up._

_ "Well," Spike began at last, lifting his eyes hesitantly, "I wanted to let you know that I'm considering applying for a position in an SRU team in the next district over, and…I wanted to get your thoughts on that."_

_ Greg did his best not to let the shock be revealed on his face. Spike was thinking of leaving? "Why don't you tell me what your reasons are, first of all."_

_ If possible, Spike looked even more distressed. He swallowed spasmodically. "It—it's about Winnie, Boss." He glanced up and shrugged helplessly. "I have…developed feelings for her. And I have tried to keep those feelings professional and…discreet, but I can't seem to do it anymore. And I don't want her job to be at risk because of those feelings."_

_ "Have you told her how you feel?"_

_ Spike shook his head. "I haven't. I wanted to talk to you first, get some advice." He gave him a nervous smile. "I'm no good with these kinds of things, and with my dad gone…"_

_ Greg nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I get it, Spike." He sighed and folded his hands together, trying to gather his thoughts. He purposefully ignored the other man's obviously anxious character, which would distract him even further._

_ "I don't see any reason why you would need to transfer away if you and Winnie began dating," Greg said at last. "As long as the two of you are able to behave professionally and there are no problems in communication—whether or not she feels the same way—then I think it's fine."_

_ Spike just stared at him a moment before letting out a nervous breath. "Thanks, Boss. I was really hoping you'd say that."_

_ Greg looked out through the glass doors to Winnie's desk, where she was just getting ready to leave. "Winnie's a really great girl, Spike." He glanced at the young man and grinned at his starry eyed expression as he watched Winnie. "Go for it."_

_ He almost laughed as he saw Spike swallow and take a deep breath. He looked back at Greg. "You think?"_

_ Greg nodded. "Don't think, just do."_

_ And with that Spike was out of his chair and jogging towards her desk. "Winnie!"_

_ "Hey, Spike, what's up?"_

_ "Can I…can we talk?"_

It hadn't taken long for the two of them to figure out where they were going in their relationship, and after ten months Spike had proposed. Now here they were, married, with a baby on the way.

Greg was distracted from his reverie as he realized Spike had stopped humming. He glanced over to see him looking very intently at his wedding ring, twisting and rubbing it. "You okay there, bud?" He turned down the street toward the Kennedy Building.

Spike nodded slowly before looking over at him. "You remember what I asked you a couple weeks ago?"

_They'd just been chatting, talking about random things and hanging around in the corridor around Winnie's desk. She was sitting in her chair with a book that Spike's ma had sent them for the baby. She'd gotten a recordable book and had recorded herself reading a story in Italian. Winnie was dead set on their baby growing up with at least a working knowledge of the language, so she was holding the book up to her belly now while her mother-in-law "read" the book to the baby._

_ Greg had been smiling, watching the mother-to-be, when Spike's words brought a new solemnity to the moment._

_ "You'll take care of them, right? If—if anything happens to me…you'll make sure Winnie and the baby are okay?"_

_ "Spike…"_

_ "I gotta know, Boss. That's my family. I can't do this job unless I know they'll be alright if something happens."_

_ At last Greg nodded. "Of course, Spike. You…you know I'd take care of them."_

"Yeah, I remember."

Spike nodded and turned to look out the window, apparently having said all he needed to. "Good."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: This chapter is where things start to get interesting. As a bit of background for the new team members, I'll introduce them to you. The team now consists of Greg, Ed, Spike, Sam, and Leah, along with two new members: Ty and Bobby. Ty is a former cop who's kind of taken Wordy's place in focusing on hard entries and providing manpower and protection for the team. Bobby is a former Army sniper like Sam, and that's his primary job—he also has limited experience disarming bombs. Don't worry, Jules is still in play—she'll show up probably in the next chapter.**

**Hopefully this chapter won't be too confusing—as a head's up, I jump around a lot from different people's points of view, mostly Winnie, Spike, and Greg.**

**I really struggled with this chapter, especially in writing about the bomb. I have no knowledge whatsoever about that sort of anything. So if that part of the chapter's not great, just focus on the emotion and intensity of the scene. :)**

**Don't own Flashpoint, sadly. Where's my Spike?**

Chapter Three

Team One pulled up to the Kennedy Building, sirens blaring and lights flashing. A steady stream of civilians were making their way out of the building, escorted by security guards and the police officers already on the scene. The team hurried to unload their equipment.

"Alright, team, our first step is to locate the bomb," Greg began. "Winnie's sent the floor plans to all your phones. Leah, you're my second; stay in the command truck and keep going over Maccabee's criminal record—maybe there's some sort of pattern or continuity in his style, find his signature. Spike and Ty, take the basement; you're Eagle 1. Sam and Ed, the first floor, Eagle 2. Bobby, find a police officer and have him help you clear the second floor, Eagle 3. Work your way up until you locate the device."

"Okay, guys, my guess is that the device will be in the basement," Spike announced as he and Ty began jogging toward the building, weaving through the evacuating civilians. "Remember, no one touches the bomb until I get there, and everyone evacuates once it's located."

"Got it, Spike," Ed confirmed for the team.

Spike and Ty quickly followed the building schematics to locate the stairs leading down to the basement. According to a security guard, the floor was clear of civilians—their only task was to search for the device.

The basement of the building doubled as a massive file room for the law offices above, as well as an old storage area and the location of some old office and conference rooms. The men split up to search the floor more quickly. There were lots of places to hide a bomb—file cabinets, stacked chairs behind which a bomb could easily be hidden, tables to put it under. Spike ordered Ty to use extreme caution, especially searching the file cabinets. Even jostling one containing a bomb could set it off.

From up above the other two teams confirmed that the first and second floors were clear, and they were moving on to the third and fourth. Spike and Ty continued searching.

Spike was just finishing clearing his half of the basement when Ty yelled for him. "Bomb located."

"Eagles 2 and 3, evacuate the building," Greg ordered.

Spike jogged over to where Ty was standing in front of one of the file cabinets in the center of the room. The second drawer was pulled out, revealing the bugger that had brought them all out for the day. "Go on, Ty, I'll take it from here."

"Ty, exit the building," Greg continued.

"Copy that." Ty clapped Spike on the shoulder. "Careful, bud."

"Boss, we're on our way out," Ed informed. "Spike, break it down."

"Okay, it's in a file cabinet, takes up a whole drawer. X-raying now." He knelt down in front of the cabinet, carefully moving the x-ray device in front of the drawer and studying the screen to see what was inside. "Okay, I've got four batteries plus anti-handling measures. Timer's in plain site on the top—36:44. No chemical detections. Definitely C4, maybe some dynamite." He sat back on his heels. "Boss, it's a bad one."

"How bad, Spike?"

"I'd clear the adjoining buildings, and the streets within a hundred meter radius—if this goes off, it's taking the building with it. It's right in the middle of two major supporting crossbeams for the building. Whole thing will implode."

Winnie sucked in a breath and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn't let her fear for her husband travel to the rest of the team—they needed her calm and cool. She muted her headset and took in a few deep breaths before switching it back on. "Boss, Leah and I have finished looking through Maccabee's criminal record. Guy's unpredictable—different switches, different materials with almost every bomb he's been confirmed as maker."

"Winnie's right, Boss," Leah agreed. "Biggest bomb he took credit for went off in a government building in Brazil thirteen years ago. Took the whole block with it—87 people died."

"Okay, thanks, Leah," Greg responded. "Try to find some schematics for Spike; maybe that'll help him out. Winnie, switch to channel two—everyone else stay where you are."

Winnie swallowed and did as Greg had requested. "Yeah, Boss?"

"How you doing, Win?" Greg asked bluntly. "You going to be okay with this call? We can always call someone in to relieve you if it's too difficult."

Winnie squeezed her tear-filled eyes shut and tried to keep the emotion out of her voice as she responded, one hand on her belly. "This is where I wanna be, Boss. I'd like to stay."

"Alright, Win. Let's go back to three."

Greg switched back his headset just as Ed and the rest of the team came jogging out of the building. "Ed, get police working on evacuating adjoining buildings and moving the perimeter back as quickly as possible. We don't have much time."

"I'm on it."

"Spike, how's it looking? You see any way around this thing?"

There was a long moment of silence before he answered. "Not sure yet, Boss. I'm going to try to disarm the anti-handling by freezing the mercury, but there're so many stray wires I could trip, I'm not sure about it." There was another long pause. "Boss, move everyone back; I'm not touching this thing until everyone's out of harm's way."

"You can't just sit there and wait for it to go off, Spike. If you wait too long you won't have enough time."

"I know, I know, I'm going to just start off with disarming the anti-handling and checking for trip wires around the drawer. It seems to be wedged in pretty tight—I'm going to see if it'll hold if I remove the bottom."

"Okay, bud, we're moving back; let us know if you need anything."

"I have everything I need—do _not_ send anyone else down range. This thing could go at any time."

Spike turned to grab his bag and pulled out his screw driver and some acetone and dry ice. He set about trying to freeze the anti-handling.

What was he even doing here? This bomb could just blow at any time if he did anything wrong, and then he'd be dead. He'd never get to see Winnie again, never get to see his son. _Boss, just call me off, let it blow, get someone else to do the job._

He quickly shook himself out of that mindset. Yes, things were different now. Before, it'd just been him and his ma. Now he had a family of his own, but that didn't change the fact that this is what he'd signed up to do—save lives. And this was how he did it, and no one else was able to right now.

His mind went to Winnie, and how scared she must be for him right now. She trusted him—knew he was good at doing his job—but it didn't stop her from worrying, especially now that they were about to have a baby. He let out a rush of breath, thankful the bomb hadn't gone off while he was freezing the anti-handling, and started humming the lullaby. _I'm fine, babe._

It took twenty whole minutes before Winnie received word that the adjacent buildings had been primarily evacuated and adjoining streets blocked off. She'd set up a timer on the computer to keep track—13:27. "Spike, buildings and streets are evacuated, perimeter is pushed back."

"Thanks, babe." She chuckled and could hear him clear his throat awkwardly—they weren't supposed to use pet names over the headsets because it was copied into the transcripts. "I mean…Winnie."

"Spike, get started on that bomb," Greg interrupted. "Less than fifteen minutes left."

"I'm trying, Boss—are you and the team far enough away?"

"Yeah, Spike, we're good. Listen, if it comes down to it, you let it blow—give yourself enough time to get out of there and just let it blow."

"Will do; Winnie, Leah, have you found schematics for his other bombs?"

"Sending you schematics for the bomb in Brazil," Leah replied. "I only just found it; figured you might start there, seeing as this is another big one."

"Okay, thanks, Leah."

Winnie couldn't tear her eyes from the clock. She tried to distract herself, helping the police coordinate transportation of evacuees, providing alternate routes for people who needed to find a route around the blocked-off streets, scanning the security cameras of the Kennedy Building again and again to make sure everyone was out. There wasn't much chatter over her headset. All they could do now was wait, and Spike's only talk when he was trying to diffuse a bomb was usually just mumbling to himself. They waited.

Seven long minutes went by. 6:23.

"Spike, how's it going in there?" Greg asked, trepidation filling his voice. "You don't have much time left, buddy."

"I know, Boss," Spike replied, his voice filled with anxiety. "I'm almost there—I've identified the main trigger, but it's at the center of the bomb; I just need to find a way around the other trip wires to get to it."

"You think you'll have time?"

There was no answer.

Winnie concentrated on taking deep breaths, drinking small sips of water, trying not to pass out. Another dispatcher, Will, had come to relieve her, but she'd basically told him to back off and go sit in the briefing room until this was all over. It wasn't the first time she'd snapped at someone at work in the past eight months—he took it pretty well, especially considering the current situation.

She strained her ears for even the slightest sound from her husband, some sound of triumph that said he'd been successful, he'd come home to her alive.

3:02.

"He's surrounded the trigger with kill switches," Spike said at last, making Winnie jump. "If I even touch one of them, or cut one of the trip wires, it's going to blow."

"Spike, get _out_ of there _now_!" Greg yelled. "You don't have enough time!"

"Just give me another minute—I can do it!"

"Spike, evacuate the building!" Ed yelled.

1:36.

"Spike, get out now!" Leah joined in. "You won't have enough time to get past the perimeter!"

Winnie couldn't breathe. She would have joined in with the rest of the team, urging her husband to just _run_, but she couldn't even seem to take in a breath, let alone form words, let alone speak. She gripped the armrests of her chair, leaned forward, _Spike, please._

"Spike, get out of there now!"

0:45.

_"You remember that time you said you don't date cops?"_

35…32…28.

_"Hey, Winnie, you think you wanna spend the rest of your life with me? Wanna marry me?"_

17…14…11.

_"I, Michelangelo Scarlatti, take you, Winifred Camden, to be my wife…Bella, guardo su di voi con amore."_

9…8…7.

_"Let's have a baby, okay? You'd be a great mom."_

3…2…1.

Winnie could almost feel the explosion. It blasted through her headset, making the speakers shriek and her head spin. She jumped up from her chair, felt her stomach muscles tighten, screamed.

"Spike!"


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Glad you all liked the last chapter! I really liked the last portion of it—I thought it was really powerful. I considered just ending the story right there out of spite, but I had some threats of lynching, so I thought I'd better continue. :) Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Don't own Flashpoint.**

Chapter 4

Hours ticked by. Or was it just seconds? Winnie's ears were ringing, her hands grasping at empty air as she tried to focus on whoever was yelling. Who was yelling? "Spike, answer me! Spike, where are you?"

And suddenly she realized that that was her voice—_she_ was yelling—and all that was left on the other end of the line was silence.

_Stop it_, the autopilot part of her brain ordered. _This can't go on transcript—personal relationships must be disregarded on a call._

_Shut it_, argued her heart. _Workplace protocol be damned._

But slowly she stopped shouting and just listened. _Please, Spike, make a sound, let me know you're okay, anything._ But all was quiet. Her legs were shaking, but she held herself tense and poised in a half-upright position.

"Winnie, he's okay," Ed's voice yelled at last, scaring her half to death and making her sob. "He's okay, his headset just got damaged, but he's fine, he got out." She heard him laugh, joining in her joy. "He's just fine."

Winnie collapsed into her chair and put her head in her hands, letting out a sob. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," she whispered to herself as silent tears streamed down her face.

"What's that, Win?" Ed asked.

She swallowed and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Ed. Get him back to me safely."

"Will do, Win—we'll get him out of here as soon as possible."

She nodded and took a deep breath in an effort to stop her tears. As she calmed down she noticed a dripping sound, like water from a faucet. She glanced around. Where was it coming from? She glanced at the floor and

_Oh my God, my water broke._

Winnie leapt up from her chair and tried to get away from the puddle of water in her chair and on the floor. Then she laughed. Her bum and legs were already soaked—what use was getting away from a puddle of water going to do?

She tried to take some more deep breaths as she figured out what to do. First her husband had almost died, then he was okay, and now she was going into labor. It was a lot to take in. She felt like she about to start laughing hysterically from the adrenaline rush, or break down crying. _How much time do I have? Should I call Spike? He won't be able to get over here for another hour anyway; why rush him? He's getting examined by EMS—they have to figure out if there's any injuries he's sustained._

Winnie mentally slapped herself and focused. _Get a grip. You've gone to all the classes, so you know that there are hours yet until you actually have the baby. For now you're fine. Try to clean up the water—it'll distract you while Spike's on his way back._

Winnie thanked her lucky stars that there wasn't anyone in the immediate area of her desk, or even in any of the briefing rooms. As far as she knew, the only person still at SRU was the janitor, Will, and some members of Team Three who were out on the shooting range.

Making sure to keep her headset on, Winnie made her way to the supply closet to get a mop or some paper towels to clean up the mess. _God, this is the strangest feeling ever_, she thought to herself as she walked across the hallway. _It's like I can't stop peeing._

Winnie found a mop and let out a groan of frustration as she turned around to see she'd made a trail from her desk to the closet. _It's like Hansel and Gretel's trail of breadcrumbs._ She giggled at the thought and then rolled her eyes. _Stop being such a freak and clean up the water._

"Winnie, Spike's just getting checked out by EMS," Greg informed her over the headset, scaring her and almost making her drop the mop. "We'll be back in about an hour."

"Thanks, Boss," Winnie replied, turning her back to the desk and walking backwards so she wouldn't leave another trail of water.

"How are you doing, Win?"

She gnawed on her lip and thought of how to reply. Should she tell him? _Oh, doing good—my husband almost died, I'm in labor—everyone's jealous of my life!_

"I'm doing alright, Boss," she chose to answer, deciding that she wanted Spike to be the first to know and she wanted to be the one to tell him. "Just get him back safely."

"We will, Winnie, we will."

She ran into trouble when she got to the large puddle of water on the floor, and in the chair where she'd been sitting. Should she dump the water from the chair into the bucket, or onto the floor? She tried to kneel down to examine the situation and remembered that her pants were soaking wet. She glanced behind herself to see if anyone was around and caught a glimpse of herself in the window. There she was—nine months pregnant, pants dripping, a mop in one hand, and a headset teetering on the brim of her forehead, about to plunge into the bucket of mop water.

All the adrenaline came crashing down and Winnie started laughing like she'd never laughed before. It didn't make any sense, really—this was all normal, everyday stuff in her life—but for some reason it was indescribably funny today.

"Winnie, are you alright?"

She whirled around to see the janitor, Elliot, standing near her desk and watching her with a mixture of disgust and shock.

"Elliot," Winnie greeted, letting out another burst of laughter as she tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I'm doing great, just great, how are you?" _Pull yourself together, you freak._

He nodded slowly, taking in the scene before him with an expression of utter helplessness. "I am having a good day." He glanced at the puddle of water on the floor, and then back up at her. "Where did all the water come from?"

"Oh, my water broke," Winnie replied with a nonchalant shrug as she turned her attention back to the floor and started mopping again with a vengeance. "I'm just not sure how to get the water off of the chair…" She let out another chuckle as she thought of the poor person who would view these security tapes and her obvious madness. _I have a good excuse at least—all the blame goes on Spike! If he'd gotten out of that building sooner, I wouldn't have been so stressed out that I'd go into labor._

"Winnie," Elliot said slowly, taking a cautionary step towards her, "don't you think you should call your husband?"

Suddenly she was overwhelmed with sadness, and tears started streaming down her cheeks. "He almost died," she sobbed, turning around to see Elliot backing away again at her sudden onset of multiple personality disorder. Her lips quivered as she turned back to the mop, tears coming out of her eyes in a stream and falling into the mop bucket like raindrops. She pressed her hand to her belly. "He almost left our baby without a father." _My God, Winnie, stop being such a faucet. Even pregnancy hormones are no excuse for this kind of behavior._

Elliot seemed to understand that she was in a fairly normal state of mind, just going through a stressful time, and he ordered her to sit down while he finished cleaning up the water. She refused to comply until he brought her a metal chair, stating that she absolutely would _not_ ruin another nice swirly chair with a cushioned seat. Then she sat and watched him clean up the mess, apologizing again and again and babbling about how she didn't have her hospital bag all packed yet, and the baby's room was a bit of a disaster, and did he think she was going to be a good mother? She didn't seem to notice when Elliot chose not to reply to any of this, even if she'd let him get a word in edgewise in the twenty minutes she talked, almost without taking a breath.

Winnie shrieked when she heard Greg's voice in her headset, frightening Elliot even more and nearly making him fall by slipping on the wet floor. "Winnie, you there?"

"Here, Boss," she replied after turning her headset off mute, her autopilot voice taking over and making her sound much more calm and relaxed then was her present state of alternating between laughter and weeping.

"Just wanted to let you know that we're on our way back," Greg continued. "Spike checked out with EMS—they said he's fine, just a couple bumps and bruises."

"Thanks, Boss," Winnie said as she stood up, frantically trying to find her phone to call her husband. At last she remembered that it was in her pocket.

She pulled out the phone, dripping from being in her pocket, and almost started crying again until Elliot grabbed it from her hands and quickly dried it on his shirt before thrusting it back at her. A couple more tears were shed anyway at his kindness.

* * *

Greg climbed into the driver's seat of the truck, looking over at Spike to make sure he was okay as he climbed into the passenger seat. The other man nodded painfully and held back a groan.

He'd been all set to stick with the bomb to the end, Spike had told them, convincing himself he could handle it, when he had a sudden flashback of Winnie climbing out of their bed in the middle of the night to pee, as she did about ten times a night. Spike had told them that that was what convinced him to run out of the building. He couldn't leave her alone, couldn't leave their baby without a father. He'd started running just as the timer ticked below 1:00.

The blast had thrown him on the ground into the street he'd been crossing, just in front of the trucks and EMS. It took about ten minutes for EMS to get him off the ground because his ears were ringing so badly. He kept asking about Winnie, and was thankful when he was informed that Greg and Ed had let her know that he was okay.

_Speak of the devil_, Greg thought to himself as Spike's phone rang just as they were driving onto the freeway. Spike pulled his cell out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Hey, babe, listen, I'm fine, don't worry—" He paused and listened as Winnie apparently ranted at him. He glanced at Greg and gave him a reassuring nod. "She's glad I'm okay."

Greg grinned and shook his head. Of course she was; he could hear the tears in her voice when he'd talked to her over the com. He'd been ready to cry when he found out Spike was okay—he could only imagine how Winnie was feeling.

Greg glanced over at Spike as he got quiet again and listened to what Winnie had to say. The other man's eyes widened. "What?!"

"What is it?" Greg asked, concerned at Spike's tone.

"Winnie's water just broke," Spike announced, apparently not caring that their coms were open and the whole team could hear.

"What?!" Leah shrieked in response, and Greg glanced in the rearview mirror to see the car she was in swerve a little. Apparently she'd frightened Ed, who was driving. "Is she okay?"

Spike nodded as he kept listening to Winnie. "Okay, listen, babe, we'll be there as soon as we can, okay? You just sit tight." He grinned at her response and flipped the phone shut. "This can't be happening," he murmured to himself as he laid his head back against the seat. "It's too much to take in all at once."

Greg grinned, recalling similar feelings when his first wife had gone into labor with Dean. "Don't worry, bud, we'll be there in forty minutes, sirens blazing."

Spike nodded and grinned suddenly. "Is it normal to be this excited? I mean, I'm scared out of my mind, but…" He turned and stared out the window. "We're having a baby today." Looking down at his hands, he twisted his wedding ring around on his finger and grinned to himself. "We're having a baby."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hey everyone! Once again, thank you for your kind reviews—they're so encouraging! I wanted to give you all a heads up—I didn't want to be done with Spike and Winnie once this story was completed, so once I'm done with this I'll be beginning another story documenting their love, from beginning to just before "I Look On You With Love". I've been working on it for a few days now, and am looking forward to seeing where it'll go. That said, enjoy this chapter! Don't own Flashpoint.**

**Chapter Five**

Within five minutes of Winnie hanging up with Spike, her phone was ringing again. She glanced down and couldn't help but smile. 'Jules Braddock'. No one ever thought Jules would change her last name, but she wanted the baby to have Sam's last name and, as she later admitted, she kind of liked the name too.

"Hi, Jules," Winnie said airily, waving as Will, her relief, rushed out of the locker room to get her out of the way and on to the hospital. She patted his shoulder, gave him a grin, "Labor, right?", and started hobbling down the hallway, muttering her apologies to Elliot for the leaking water and chuckling madly as she waved at a security camera. She was quitting with a bang.

"Sam tells me you're expecting to see a little boy a little sooner than you'd planned," Jules sang out, dragging out the last word like it had two syllables.

Winnie rolled her eyes and winced as a Braxton-Hicks-like contraction tightened her belly when she pushed the locker room door open. It was her first contraction of the day, actually. "Yeah, well, you can blame Spike. Bomb blew up, not answering any of us for a few minutes…it's enough to send anyone into labor."

Jules snickered, and Winnie could hear Sadie babbling in the background. "So how're you feeling?"

"I'm actually feeling great," Winnie replied, balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she washed her hands. "I'm just really excited…but I've been acting like a freak. I was laughing and crying at the same time, you should have seen Elliot."

Jules laughed. "It's the adrenaline, trust me, you'll calm down in a bit. So you have about half an hour before Spike gets there?"

"Yep."

"If I was you, Win, I'd take a long, hot shower. It'll relax you, and you might not get to take a shower for a day or two, so you'll want to be clean."

Winnie grimaced at the thought of not being able to shower for that length of time, but then realized that it was a realistic estimation considering the usual time it took for first-time moms to give birth. "Okay, I'll do that, thanks, Jules." She groaned as she suddenly thought of something she'd forgotten. "I don't even have my hospital bag with me; it's at home, I was going to finish packing it tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," Jules assured, "I'll run over and get it. What else do you need in it?"

Winnie gave Jules the list of things that needed to be stuffed into the hospital bag and glanced at the clock. "I guess I'm going to go ahead and take a shower, Jules; Spike'll be here soon."

"Okay, we'll see you at the hospital, bye!"

* * *

"This must be what it's like to have a heart attack," Spike mumbled as Greg sped down the freeway, going way above the legal limit. Spike seemed to have forgotten all he'd ever learned about sniper breathing—he was practically panting from stress. He blamed part of it on the sirens—they didn't exactly have a calming effect.

He'd been texting Winnie like mad ever since they'd hung up: she was going to take a shower, Jules was going by the house to get the hospital bag, chill out, it'd be hours yet until she had the baby.

"Can you go any faster?" Spike begged, gripping the door handle and shifting in his seat in impatience.

Greg grinned at him. "Calm down, Spike; it's her first, she's not going to give birth before we get there."

"I know, but…she's all alone—what if she's in pain?" Spike's face paled even more at the thought.

Greg shook his head and clapped Spike on the shoulder. "Bud, she _just_ went into labor—I doubt she's even experiencing any pain yet."

Spike nodded and tried to believe Greg's words. "Right, she's fine, she's totally fine, and…we're here." He was out the car before they'd even come to a stop.

"Winnie!" he yelled as he burst through the doors, frightening Elliot and all of Team Three, who'd just come back from a call. "Will, where's Winnie?"

"She's in the locker room," Will informed, pointing in the right direction. "She's been in there about half an hour."

"Hey, what's wrong with Winnie?" Black Roger from Team Three asked Leah as Spike jogged off. They called him Black Roger because there was a White Roger on Team Two; neither really cared much and it kept everyone else from getting confused.

"Her water broke; she's in labor."

The last thing Spike heard was "She's in labor?! Oh my gah, this is _not_ a peaceful working environment!"

Spike took a deep breath to calm himself just outside of the locker room. He knew Winnie—even if she was calm at the moment, seeing him stressed would stress her out too. He rubbed his hands together, blew out, and quietly opened the door.

There she was, huge and pregnant and all wrapped up in a fluffy bathrobe as she sat on the locker room bench. She glanced up at him and smiled. "Hey."

"Bella," Spike murmured, leaning against the doorjamb for a moment and just looking at her. He knew she loved when he called her that. Bella, my beautiful. He'd even found a way to incorporate it into their wedding—"Bella, guardo su di voi con amore"—"I look on you with love." It was something his father had always said to his mother, and it wasn't until he met Winnie that Spike realized just how much love was contained in that phrase.

"How are you doing?" Spike asked softly, coming to kneel down in front of her and putting a hand on her belly. He grinned as he felt the baby move, and looked up at her to hear her answer.

"Pretty nervous," Winnie admitted, bordering his hand with both of her over the baby. She gave him a grin. "But really excited."

Spike chuckled and tucked one of her curls behind her ear. "My ma's gonna be mad—she wanted to be here when he was born."

He frowned as Winnie's eyes filled with tears, but brightened at her words. "She's planning a baby shower for him." She glanced down at her belly and grinned. "He's going to be here for it—isn't that great? Everyone can meet him!"

Spike matched her grin and knew his face would hurt the next day from all the smiling. "She's going to be so excited to meet him." He felt the baby move again and pressed his lips to the movement. "I'm so excited to meet him," he whispered.

She gave him a long, hard kiss and leaned her forehead against this. "I know this probably isn't the right time, but I can't wait to have sex again."

He laughed and dropped his head. "I hear there's something about a newborn baby that can kind of dull that flame, at least the first couple of months."

Winnie shook her head. "Give me a couple weeks, and we have a real shot." She rubbed her hands over her belly and looked at him pointedly. "A crying baby is nothing in comparison to trying to kiss you with a beach ball in between us."

"Or even hug me, for that matter," Spike pointed out with a cheeky grin.

Winnie winked at him and gave him another kiss. "Right." She bit her lip and looked away.

"What's wrong?" Spike asked, instantly on the alert.

"Just a contraction," Winnie replied as she breathed out of it. "They're pretty much nothing so far—I think I work myself up thinking they'll be so much worse than the last one. I know they'll get bad, but right now…I'm doing pretty good."

"Are you ready to go?"

Winnie nodded. "I wanted to get dressed… I don't really want to go out in my bathrobe; it's kind of cold."

He wrapped his arms around her and nodded. "Are your clothes in your locker? I'll help you get dressed."

Soon Winnie was dressed in a warm hoodie and a stretchy maxi skirt, which she'd put in her locker just in case something like this happened. Spike told her he'd come back for the rest of the things in her locker, and she teared up.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

Her lips quivered as she looked around the locker room. "It's just…it's my last day." She put a hand on his shoulder. "I mean, we met here, at SRU." She sniffed and shook her head to jolt herself out of the sudden onset of emotions. "It's just bittersweet."

"I know, babe," Spike agreed, putting his arm around her. "But it's not like you'll never come back." He grinned and put a hand on her belly. "You'll have to bring this little guy to visit me all the time."

Winnie laughed and nodded. "I will."

As soon as he opened the door he heard Leah yell, "Here she comes!"

Winnie grinned up at him before taking his hand and making her way slowly down the hallway to where all of Team One and some members of Team Three were gathered.

"Hey, Winnie," Greg said gently, walking over to rub her arm. He looked at her like he was trying to figure something out. "So, tell me, when did your water break?"

"I think it was when the bomb blew," Winnie replied, squeezing Spike's hand. "I was frozen for a few moments, and when I started to come back down to earth when I knew Spike was okay, I realized my water had broken."

"And you didn't tell us?!" Ed exclaimed. "You talked to me _and_ Greg after that, and you didn't say a word."

Winnie gave them a sheepish smile. "I wanted Spike to be the first to know!" She shrugged and snickered at their expressions. "Going out with a bang, huh?"

Greg laughed and nodded. "Listen, we've got a police escort all ready for you; Leah's going to drive you and Spike in your car, and we'll lead the way, sirens and lights."

Winnie smiled at the team and nodded her thanks. "That's so sweet of you all." She put a hand to her belly. "This little one's going to be so loved."

"Are you going to tell us the name yet?" Ed asked. He'd been pestering them about it for weeks.

Spike shook his head. "Not yet, Ed; we're gonna wait till he's born and surprise everyone."

Ed rolled his eyes and gestured to the doors. "Well, come on then, let's go! It's time to have a baby!"


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Okay, so I'm sorry if the birth part sucks. It's just, I've never had a baby, have no idea what it's like, so I really struggled with this chapter. I stalked a couple of blogs, read some birth stories, and here's the best I could come up with. Hope it's not too bad! Don't own Flashpoint.**

Chapter Six

_Ah, so _this_ is pain._

Winnie lay back on that wretched, hard hospital bed and tried to exhale slowly as the contraction faded away. That was a tough one.

"Good job," Spike whispered from where he was leaning forward in his chair next to her bed, gripping her hand and giving her little sips of water from a plastic cup with a straw. He stood up and smoothed back her hair. "You're doing great, Win."

She gave him a shaky smile and tried to believe it. "I can't imagine doing this naturally." She glanced at the clock. Five hours since her water broke, three and a half hours since they'd gotten checked into the hospital. "You want to get someone to check me, see if I can get the epidural yet?"

Spike nodded and practically ran out of the room. She'd seen it in his eyes—he was terrified for her and _hated_ seeing her in pain. The sooner she got the epidural, the better.

She'd discussed birth in great detail with Jules, and had also gotten Sophie's and Shelley's input. Shelley, bless her heart, had actually given birth naturally when she delivered her last little girl, Allie. Winnie thought that was admirable—more power to her!—but for this first time, thank God for the epidural and give it to her _now_. She breathed a sigh of relief when Spike came back within minutes, followed by their nurse, Karen.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?" Karen asked as she came in, checking Winnie's vital signs and the baby's heartbeat. "Ready for some pain medicine?"

"Please," Winnie agreed, smiling up at Spike and feeling a rush of love for him—this was the _father_ of her _baby_—how had she gotten so blessed? She looked back over at Karen. "I'm really hoping I'm dilated enough by now."

"Well, let's check," Karen offered, going to the end of the bed and spreading Winnie's legs so she could check on her dilation. Winnie grimaced; even after months of intrusive exams and awkward check-ups, she still wasn't used to people poking and prodding _down there_.

"Jules is regaling Leah with the story of her giving birth to Sadie," Spike informed, trying to distract Winnie from Karen's prodding. "You know, I think Leah was actually considering settling down and having a family, but her desire seems to be fading with Jules' every word."

Winnie laughed and sucked in a breath as another contraction started creeping up. "Tell her not to be such a wimp," she replied through gritted teeth, "it's not that bad." Eventually the contraction faded out and she exhaled in a rush, releasing Spike's hand so he could move his fingers again. She smiled up at him. "Sorry."

"Looks like you're ready, Winnie," Karen interrupted. "You're five centimeters dilated, and you're progressing quickly. I'll get the anesthesiologist."

"Oh, thank God."

* * *

Spike sat back in his chair, unable to tear his eyes away from the tiny baby boy in his arms. The little man stirred in his sleep and scrunched up his face, making Winnie laugh. She was exhausted from giving birth, but couldn't keep herself from staring at her husband and tiny new son in the chair beside her bed.

"I can't stay awake," she whispered at last, her eyes drifting closed of their own accord.

"Just go to sleep," Spike murmured, reaching over to smooth her hair out of her face. "I'll take care of our son."

Winnie smiled at that. _Our son._

She thought back to the birth as she dozed, unable to even believe that she had just had a _baby_. She, Winnie Camden Scarlatti, had a child. A perfect little boy.

After receiving the epidural and some pitocin to speed up her labor, Winnie had experienced a strange sort of high. She was totally numb from the waist down and was in lalaland for about an hour after the epidural due to a huge adrenaline rush and all the drugs coursing through her system. She had no doubt Spike wouldn't miss the opportunity later to embarrass her with some remembrance of a ridiculous action or speech she'd felt necessary to give while her mind was elsewhere.

Three hours after the epidural Winnie was fully dilated and ready to push. Even after that, it took her at least half an hour to figure out _how_ to push. Sure, she'd learned what it was supposed to be like in all of her classes, but the fact that she couldn't feel anything in her lower regions was not helping matters at all. She eventually figured it out, though; Spike held one of her legs up and let her grip his free hand.

"I love you, Win," he whispered as she came to the end, utterly exhausted, knowing she needed more strength than she possessed.

"Come on, Winnie," their doctor encouraged, "just one more push, he's almost here!"

"_You know, I always knew you'd break your rule. Just took me a little while to wear you down."_

"There's his head! Come on, babe, you can do it!"

_"If Lew was alive, I'd have wanted him to be the baby's godfather. He'd have spoiled him rotten."_

"One more push, Win, come on!"

_"It's…it's a boy? Winnie, we're having a boy!"_

"_I can feel him moving! Oh my God, Win, that's our baby!"_

"There he is!"

Winnie gasped as she felt release, and there was a flurry of movement as her son was brought into the world. "Is he okay?" she asked Spike desperately. Her question was answered as a healthy little squall filled the room. They both laughed, and eagerly reached for the baby as the doctor laid him to Winnie's chest.

"He has hair!" Spike exclaimed, carefully touching the little baby's brow. "Oh, Win, he's perfect!"

She couldn't do anything but just stare at the little boy, his scrawny little legs, his clenched fists, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pressed her lips to his forehead. "Look at his little ears," she whispered, stroking the baby's head and shushing his cries. "It's okay, little boy. Daddy and Mommy are here."

Spike grinned at her. "Daddy and Mommy."

She nodded and let out another sob to accompany the baby's. "I love you, Spike," she whispered before she turned her attention back to the infant. "I love you both so much."

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you too, Win."

* * *

Spike cradled the baby oh so gently as he walked slowly down the hall. The nurses smiled as he passed by; there were few things more precious than a new father with his baby.

"Spike!" Jules exclaimed as he came down the hall towards the waiting room. She instantly leapt up and ran towards him, followed quickly by the rest of Team One.

"Well, well, look at this little chap!" Ed murmured as he stared down at the baby, who slept safely in his father's arms.

"Oh, he's beautiful!" Jules cooed, running her fingers gently across the baby's cheeks. "Look at that nose!" She grinned up at Spike. "I'd say he's your son."

Spike laughed and shrugged. "What can I say, my wife and I make cute kids."

Ed rolled his eyes, giving another glance to the baby before shooting a pointed look at Spike. "So, name?"

Spike grinned and squared his shoulders proudly. "Lewis Dominic Scarlatti." His face saddened for just a moment as he studied his son. "After Lew and my dad." He looked back up at the team and grinned. "You coulda guessed that, Ed."

The team laughed. "How's Winnie?" Greg asked.

"She's sleeping," Spike informed, nodding back in the direction of the room. "She did great."

"I'll bet she did," Greg agreed. He glanced over at the clock on the wall which now read 3:36 AM. "I'll be back tomorrow, bud, to see Winnie and this little one again." He smiled fondly at the baby.

"We'd better go rescue Nat from our daughter," Jules agreed, looking up at Sam.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Spike," Leah said softly, pressing her lips to the baby's forehead as the rest of the team made their way to the elevators.

Spike made his way slowly back to Winnie's room, only taking his eyes from Lewis to see where he was going. Soon he was settled back in his very uncomfortable chair, Winnie still sleeping peacefully next to him. He leaned back, reveling in Lewis' cute faces and little noises. Who would've thought? He, Michelangelo Scarlatti, and Winnie Camden, the girl was had once been just a dispatcher to him—how had she ever been _only_ a dispatcher to him?—had a son. And he was perfect.

"Win," Spike whispered, glancing over at his sleeping wife, "Lewie," he turned his gaze back to his little son, "I look on you with so much love."

* * *

**Thank you all so much for sticking with me through my first fanfic! I hope you all enjoyed it; I'm looking forward to getting up some new Spike and Winnie fluff in the next few days. Stay tuned! :)**


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